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Ariel knows all too well the exact moment she fell in love with humans. She is swimming in the shallows, hoping to find some undisturbed oysters willing to exchange pearls for invitations to her sisters’ next concert when she hears the sound of a human voice through the waves.
Triton trained his daughters well on what to do in such a situation. If they in the depths, they can risk trying to lure the ship the humans sail on to its doom; if too close to land, though, it is always safer to go back home. Strange creatures live on land, and Triton loves his daughters.
But Ariel has never been one to flee from danger, and beside she had the utmost confidence in her own voice’s ability to save her. Why, if it comes to that, she can enchant the humans into dashing their own heads against the rocks, giving her more than enough time to get away. Feeling very reckless and very bold, Ariel lifts her head above the surface just high enough that her eyes could make out what was going on, but no more.
A dark-haired human sits on the beach, both young and male judging by his face. He has the additional set of limbs all humans did, and Ariel can’t help but feel queasy at this clear distortion of what people ought to look like. She waits, though, in the hopes that he would speak again and she will find out what brought out such anger in his voice. Curiosity has always been her greatest fault.
It takes longer than she would have expected. In the interim, the human pulls out a flute made of out some strange shining material rather than coral and began to play. He is very bad at it; Sebastian would throw him out of the orchestra without thinking twice about it.
At his feet sits some sort of…bizarre monster, one that looked like it’s been infected by some terrible fungus that made grayish-white mold grow all along its body. Occasionally, a pink tongue lolls out of its mouth, and Ariel recoils, disgusted. The boy seems every bit as displeased with it as she does, but still he does nothing to chase it away. Ariel can’t understand why. As a human, he should be used to perversions.
That is why she almost does not notice that an older human approaches, dark-haired like the young one, but with a shining crown around his forehead and a face creased with wrinkles.
“Grimsby told me you were out here,” says the older with a slight smile. “Something about Max?”
“I can’t believe my dæmon settled into a stupid dog,” he says, and Ariel doesn’t understand half of what she’s saying but it’s interesting so she listens anyway. “Of all things!”
“Really?” says the older man, and something about the way he settles beside the boy reminds her of her father, great Triton of the seas. “I think it’s quite fitting, Eric.”
“Fitting? Dogs are just for servants! Everyone knows that!”
“And what more is a king, or a prince, than the most burdened servant of all, my boy? What better form for your soul than a hound?”
A dæmon, Ariel repeats to herself, enchanted; and again as she sinks again under the waves. A soul.
It becomes her prevailing obsession over the next few years. She ekes out information wherever she can: from old books that sink under the waves, from the rumors carried by seabirds, from the last breaths of drowning sailors. A dæmon, as it turns out, is the same thing as a soul, which in turn is an entity peculiar to humans that endures forever, even after a body sinks into the darkest waters to be devoured by the scavengers of the deep. A dæmon is part of this, one that takes the form of the strange land-dwelling creatures, that provides comfort and love and protection for its corresponding human –provided it is not separated. Ariel is still not entirely certain of what happens to a human separated from its dæmon, or vice versa, but she gathers it’s not pleasant.
Nevertheless, Ariel can think of nothing more delightful than to have a dæmon of her own. She pores over the books she finds before the seawater ruins them to try and decide what she would have. A bird, perhaps, but not a silly seagull; instead, she’d have one of those wicked-taloned eagles. Or perhaps a lion or a gazelle or perhaps even whatever in the world a giraffe is.
If she closes her eyes, she half-thinks she can even imagine what it might be to have a soul of her own: bright and burning just under her skin. How wonderful it must be.
Around this time, a small yellow fish seeks her out – cowardly in nature, but brave enough to approach the Sea King’s daughter. Flounder follows her everywhere and even tolerates the questions and jibes of Ariel’s sisters, and before Ariel quite understands it, having Flounder with her is as natural as the movement of the tides around her. He…balances her, she thinks; considering where she is brash, gentle where she is careless, mild-tempered where she is fearless.
So she collects her artifacts, sings with her sisters, and dreams of a soul – until the day when, quite by accident, her father lets slip that there might be someone who could give her a dæmon of her own.
Her name is Ursula, and she is the Witch of the Seas. Actually she is Ariel’s aunt, as well; Triton’s true-born sister until magic laid its claim on her, and she left the claims of family behind to serve its whims. Now, Triton says, and Ariel’s sisters confirm, her powers rival even Triton’s own and there is nothing she cannot achieve.
So Ariel seeks her out, Flounder at her tail-fins, constantly quivering; she ignores him. She might be a little more frightened than she wants to admit, but how else is one to get her heart’s desire? She swims a little further, until she finds the great abandoned skeleton of a long-dead beast, and she is there: at the Sea Witch’s lair.
Her aunt’s welcome is surprisingly warm, at least in comparison to Ariel’s expectations. Ursula raises an eyebrow and drawls :”So you’re Triton’s youngest, are you? I wondered when you’d grow foolish enough to visit me.” Then, almost lazily, she gestures her closer.
Ariel obeys. Her aunt takes after her grandmother’s tentacles unlike the rest of the family, and for a second Ariel wonders if the rumors were only just that. But then she raises her chin, imperious as Triton, and suddenly Ariel can see the resemblance all too well. Two eels swim around her, and for an instant, something about the way they stay close seems familiar, but the memory fades as soon as it emerges.
“My dear sweet child,” says Ursula. “What can I do for you?”
“I—“ and behind her, Flounder squeaks. “I need to be human.”
Surprisingly, Ursula laughs.
“Angelfish, don’t tell me you’ve gone and fallen in love,” she says, and for a confused second, Ariel thinks of the prince she watched what seems a thousand years ago . But it’s not so simple; her love is for a thousand things human, and none of them a boy she’s only seen once.
“I just do,” she says. She is a princess. She is not used to having her whims denied.
“Of course.” A pause. “But you can’t get something for nothing, you know.
Ariel nods. “I’d thought of that. They say my voice is the best of my sisters,” she says, not with a little pride. “You can have that if you’ll help.”
Ursula laughs again. “Oh, that’s not what I mean, sweetcakes. I have no need for any voice but my own. But you’ll find out soon enough. Are you really that desperate to go to the surface, to sacrifice what you have here?” Her eyes linger on Flounder, who shudders and hides in Ariel’s hair.
And it’s true, that under the sea, there are those she’ll miss: her father and Sebastian, his shadow; her sisters; Flounder. But in return—a soul. A dæmon. How could anyone not expect her to make the choice that she does?
“So be it,” says Ursula, and her magic arcs around Ariel’s body, cleaves her tail in two, propelling her towards the surface as an unfamiliar pain burns in her chest. Ariel has one last frantic look at Flounder’s wide eyes before he’s left behind and she misses him more than she would have expected, almost as though someone’s
pulling
at
her soul
Oh,Ariel thinks, as her lonely, human body reaches the surf, and that is all.